thinking about our watching them potential victims the other night,” said Smitty. “You must have had a pretty good hunch he’d go after that Montez guy again, didn’t you, Dick?”
“When I heard that Lamont had seemingly made an attempt to kill Montez and been scared off, I did think he might make another try,” answered the Avenger. “Before he went after any of the others. If he had a list, a sequence of killings, in his mind it would be vitally important to him to stick to it. No matter what happened, he had to follow the order he’d mapped out. A compulsion.”
“So you catch not only Lamont but that actor Nazi.” Smitty shook his head. “While me and Josh sit around outside a little bungalow where the guy and his wife are playing bridge with the neighbors. Some excitement.”
“I wasn’t expecting Konrad, but when I got there I fairly soon realized that the man walking around pretending to be Montez was an imposter. The toughest part was getting into the house without setting off the various warning systems he’d set up.”
Nellie asked, “What about Dr. Coopersmith?”
“She remains silent,” answered Benson. “From what Pike has been able to dig up, she really is Dr. Pearl Coopersmith. She was very carefully checked, of course, before she ever came to work on the Perseus Project.”
“Another one of them German agents planted here years back, huh?” said Smitty. “Like that guy we run into up in Connecticut last year and—”
A knock on the door.
Josh ambled over to answer it. “Ah, yes,” he said. “It’s Mr. Pike. Come in.”
“Only popped in for a minute or two,” said the rumpled government man. “Wanted to wish you all bon voyage.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you,” said Nellie.
“Yeah,” said Pike. “I didn’t mention this when we were working together, Miss Gray, but I been thinking I ought to have. So I wanted to tell you . . . you’re okay.”
“Thank you, I’m . . . well, I’m very pleased to hear that.”
Pike shifted from one foot to the other. “Well, if you’re ever out this way again,” he said, “look me up. Thanks, to all of you.” He shuffled, cleared his throat, and left the room.
“Boy,” said Smitty, “somebody’s always falling for you, Nellie.”
“More imitation maple syrup?” offered Cole, grinning across the white-clothed table.
“Since I finished the last of my hotcakes over an hour ago,” replied Jenny Keaton, “I think I’ll pass.”
“Alas, I seem to be hearing time’s swift chariot circling the block,” he said. “Our farewell breakfast must soon draw to a close. I must return to the steel and concrete canyons of Gotham while you . . . what did you say you’d be doing?”
“Don’t know for sure, Cole. There’s a possibility of a job doing a story in Europe,” said the red-haired reporter. “I’m not sure yet.”
“Too bad you didn’t get anything out of this jaunt, anything you can write up, I mean.”
Jenny Keaton sighed and smiled. “Well, this war isn’t going to last forever. Some fine day I’ll be able to use all the stuff that’s classified and top secret and Jenny-do-us-a-favor-and-don’t-write-this-yet. And when that day comes am I going to write one hell of an autobiography.”
“I hope I have a treasured place among its pages.”
“Sure, you’ll get a few paragraphs, or at least a nice fat footnote.”
“Never been a character in anyone’s book before. I look forward to that.”
Jenny Keaton checked her wristwatch. “Think I’d better get back to my hotel and call my boss in New York. Maybe now he can tell me where I go from here.”
Picking up the check, Cole stood and came around the table to pull back the girl’s chair. “We Wilsons are great believers in fate, or what is sometimes known as kismet,” he said. “I feel it was indeed kismet which brought us together. That being so, it should do it again from time to time.”
“In case kismet lets you down,” the
“When I heard that Lamont had seemingly made an attempt to kill Montez and been scared off, I did think he might make another try,” answered the Avenger. “Before he went after any of the others. If he had a list, a sequence of killings, in his mind it would be vitally important to him to stick to it. No matter what happened, he had to follow the order he’d mapped out. A compulsion.”
“So you catch not only Lamont but that actor Nazi.” Smitty shook his head. “While me and Josh sit around outside a little bungalow where the guy and his wife are playing bridge with the neighbors. Some excitement.”
“I wasn’t expecting Konrad, but when I got there I fairly soon realized that the man walking around pretending to be Montez was an imposter. The toughest part was getting into the house without setting off the various warning systems he’d set up.”
Nellie asked, “What about Dr. Coopersmith?”
“She remains silent,” answered Benson. “From what Pike has been able to dig up, she really is Dr. Pearl Coopersmith. She was very carefully checked, of course, before she ever came to work on the Perseus Project.”
“Another one of them German agents planted here years back, huh?” said Smitty. “Like that guy we run into up in Connecticut last year and—”
A knock on the door.
Josh ambled over to answer it. “Ah, yes,” he said. “It’s Mr. Pike. Come in.”
“Only popped in for a minute or two,” said the rumpled government man. “Wanted to wish you all bon voyage.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you,” said Nellie.
“Yeah,” said Pike. “I didn’t mention this when we were working together, Miss Gray, but I been thinking I ought to have. So I wanted to tell you . . . you’re okay.”
“Thank you, I’m . . . well, I’m very pleased to hear that.”
Pike shifted from one foot to the other. “Well, if you’re ever out this way again,” he said, “look me up. Thanks, to all of you.” He shuffled, cleared his throat, and left the room.
“Boy,” said Smitty, “somebody’s always falling for you, Nellie.”
“More imitation maple syrup?” offered Cole, grinning across the white-clothed table.
“Since I finished the last of my hotcakes over an hour ago,” replied Jenny Keaton, “I think I’ll pass.”
“Alas, I seem to be hearing time’s swift chariot circling the block,” he said. “Our farewell breakfast must soon draw to a close. I must return to the steel and concrete canyons of Gotham while you . . . what did you say you’d be doing?”
“Don’t know for sure, Cole. There’s a possibility of a job doing a story in Europe,” said the red-haired reporter. “I’m not sure yet.”
“Too bad you didn’t get anything out of this jaunt, anything you can write up, I mean.”
Jenny Keaton sighed and smiled. “Well, this war isn’t going to last forever. Some fine day I’ll be able to use all the stuff that’s classified and top secret and Jenny-do-us-a-favor-and-don’t-write-this-yet. And when that day comes am I going to write one hell of an autobiography.”
“I hope I have a treasured place among its pages.”
“Sure, you’ll get a few paragraphs, or at least a nice fat footnote.”
“Never been a character in anyone’s book before. I look forward to that.”
Jenny Keaton checked her wristwatch. “Think I’d better get back to my hotel and call my boss in New York. Maybe now he can tell me where I go from here.”
Picking up the check, Cole stood and came around the table to pull back the girl’s chair. “We Wilsons are great believers in fate, or what is sometimes known as kismet,” he said. “I feel it was indeed kismet which brought us together. That being so, it should do it again from time to time.”
“In case kismet lets you down,” the
Similar Books
